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For the fledgling geek, few moments are more liberating than getting a driver's license. Not so you can go to school or, heaven forbid, on a date. No, the real freedom is making your Wednesday-night pilgrimage to the comic book store for the week's new releases - without needing a ride from Mom.

There's nothing quite like dropping 50 bucks on comics, gingerly flipping through the pages, then encasing them in Mylar, never to be read again. Yet today's teens may never know the heady thrill. That's because within 24 hours of going on sale at the local Android's Dungeon, every new comic is available on BitTorrent, scanned beautifully for your downloading pleasure. Sound familiar? Just like with music, movies, and games, when content companies don't give fans what they want in the format they want it, fans make it available themselves. But for the comic book industry, now may be the proverbial nick of time: It still has a chance to change digital distribution from a threat to survival into an opportunity for growth.

But, except for a few poorly marketed compilations licensed by Marvel, if you want to read old issues of a venerable franchise like Spider-Man, your choices are either to hunt down expensive original copies or to buy costly paperback compilations.

But imagine what these publishers - and smaller imprints - could do in the digital realm. Last year, thousands of readers snapped up The Complete New Yorker, a $100 DVD set containing scans of every issue of the magazine (which, like Wired, is published by Condé Nast). If DC were to release The Complete Batman, fans wouldn't just be excited - there would be mass hysteria. Comics lovers aren't averse to spending money; it's easy to imagine them happily paying $300 for such a compilation. I would. And while it might cannibalize sales of the trades, the radically lower production costs of a DVD set would offset the difference.

When it comes to new issues, publishers would ideally make comics available in both printed and digital versions. Geeks like the physical object - the collectible. But they also like just reading the stories, on paper or onscreen. Collectors would still pay a premium for the book itself - supporting independent comics retailers - and a whole world of casual fans could buy the latest issue of Superman - or even the very first appearance of Spider-Man - on iTunes.

So what's the holdup? I asked representatives at both Marvel and DC. Their answer: "No comment." No condemnation of piracy, no acknowledgment of what's happening, no tip of the hat to the vigorous world of independent online comics. Nothing.

Here's why that's so strange: In 2004, Marvel had net sales of $513 million. Of that, only 16 percent came from comics. The rest was from licensing characters for movies, TV, and toys. In other words, comic books - the actual printed artifacts - have become little more than marketing materials. Scary as that might be for fans, the publishers must have realized it. But it begs the question of why those publishers aren't embracing digital distribution when it could be free and easy evangelizing for the next summer blockbuster.

Even better, it could save their business. The comics industry has for years been worried about acquiring new readers from a demographic that's more likely to download their entertainment than beg Mom for a lift to the store on a Wednesday night. Ignore the Net and you're ignoring these potential customers.

Most piracy doesn't spring from the desire to get free content. It comes from a desire to get it in a specific way. Successes like Apple's music business have shown that consumers will pay for content if it's offered at a fair price without unreasonable restrictions. Right now, comics publishers could enjoy a win-win situation - they could reach out to new fans and increase revenue - if they would just decide to take advantage of it. And if they don't? Worst. Decision. Ever.